


Hot Singles In Your Area

by ventiskull



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gabriel Has a Dog, I've never written anything serious or quality in my life and I'm not about to start anytime soon, M/M, Masturbation, Modern AU, Online Friendships, PLEASE READ THE NOTE AT THE BEGINNING FIRST IT'S VERY IMPORTANT, camboy AU (sort of), corny sappy and romantic with a dash of shitpost you have been warned, deep voice fetishist Gabriel Reyes, humorous (or an attempt at), lowkey wingman Ana as usual, mentions of drinking, online crushes, romcom-esque, social media chat, there's some bread and a cafe, thigh fetishist Jack Morrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 06:39:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19458460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ventiskull/pseuds/ventiskull
Summary: Gabriel posts nudes on twitter. Jack makes erotic audios on reddit. It's a small world after all.





	Hot Singles In Your Area

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said "camboy AU" on twitter but kinda last minute I figured I wanted to do something a little more different than the typical camboy trope.  
> So just a little bit of background: in this one, you could say Gabe is one of those thirst-trap twitter/instagram accounts with a buttload of followers and he just posts head-cropped-out videos of him, shirtless, flexing or doing whatever else. He sells nudes and videos and probably has one of those premium snapchat accounts as well. Sometimes he tweets about funny stuff that happened in his life or posts pictures of his dogs and food he cooks. Just a cool, funny guy in general, popular, but otherwise no one knows what his face looks like or who he really is.  
> Jack, meanwhile, is a popular user over at the GWA and PTA subreddits, short for [r/gonewildaudio](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildaudio/) and [r/pillowtalkaudio](https://www.reddit.com/r/pillowtalkaudio/), respectively. For those of you who don't know or are interested in knowing, they're little communities on reddit where people post audios.  
> GWA is more on the pornographic side: they have a hodge-podge of things on there like, aside from a massive smorgasbord of kinks, male for male (M4M), male for female (M4F), female for male (F4M), female for female (F4F), and even audios particularly tailored for people who don't identify as either such as anyone for anyone (A4A), male for trans female (M4TF), and the like. There's JOIs (jack-off instructions), count-downs, ramblefaps, threesome+ audio types, seriously—you name it. Everything's meticulously tagged, too. For everyone's safety, again: MIND THE TAGS. PTA is more on the non-sexual side and houses content such as aftercare, pillowtalk, boyfriend/girlfriend experience, comfort, etc. Requests and scripts for open use of the audio creators can be posted too.  
> So the way these subs work, you have to post a short verification audio first (just seconds long, really) so the mods can check that you're not a bot. Or something like that. Anyway—it's a thing.  
> Well, I think that's about it as far as preludes go. I did my best to limit it to just a one-shot but I’m an absolute hedonist and I think I may have a few more ideas in store. We’ll see, but for now—this.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Jack had been drunk off his mind when he'd sent that message. He'd just come home from another Friday night rager and Jack was, although he'd never admit it even to himself sober in broad daylight, feeling incredibly lonely and recoiled at the thought of having to go to bed alone that night. Not that he couldn't do anything about it—he most definitely could have found someone at the bar, and he most definitely had a few people in his contacts that he could call on for a night of bodily pleasures and little bit of spooning afterwards if he wanted—but Jack didn't feel like any of those things. At 32 years old he admittedly wanted something that was more than half-lucid nights groping in the darkness, coming once or twice, calling it a night and rolling off the bed in the morning and going on with their lives as usual, the satisfaction fleeting and temporary and leaving the hunger just that much sharper.

Jack wanted more than that. Secretly, he wanted the whole fairytale romance—not even that, but really he just wanted someone in his life he could trust, someone he could care for and who could care for him in return, someone he could come home to and laugh with and tell all about his day to and someone he could sleep next to and make breakfast with the next morning. Jack wanted that in his life. For one reason or another, relationships hardly ever worked in Jack's favor long-term, and he currently didn't know anyone he was even marginally even interested in to try and exert that much emotional labor.

Damn. He really should drink less. Makes him think about all the stuff that he already did his best to avoid thinking about.

Jack thought of recording another audio. It was another hobby Jack had stumbled in on the cusp of his loneliness. He remembered browsing the internet for something to get off to as conventional porn felt too tedious and repetitive to him now, and several online rabbit holes later he'd stumbled onto a subreddit community, called r/gonewildaudio (shortened to GWA), where people posted home-made erotic audios. Jack had taken to it immediately—there were posts made for every sexual orientation with virtually every kink under the sun. The community was also surprisingly well-curated, and subscribers were very respectful of one another and weren't creeps despite the nature of the sexual nature of the subreddit. While some of them were clearly amateur-made, there were also some which sounded professionally made, the speaker's voice had sparkling quality, with no ambient noises, complete with sound effects and the occasional binaural effects that switched between left and right channels and made it sound like the talker spoke right into your ear. It was a great way to pass the time when Jack was alone and bored, and there definitely was no shortage in content to get himself off to. For a while Jack was just a listener, eagerly consuming content and leaving positive, well-written and encouraging comments every now and then but never posting anything himself.

Looking for some thrills and wanting to get out of his comfort zone Jack, eventually, scraped up the courage to participate and submitted a verification post—just a couple of seconds of audio he'd taken on his phone saying hi, stating his username ( _strokecommander_ , a silly thing he'd come up with on the fly), the time and the date and saying he was hoping to get verified. Jack didn't overdo it, only having to try about 5 times before he was satisfied that that was about the best he could do. He double-checked the community guidelines, made sure everything was tagged the way it should be, uploaded his post and left it alone for three whole days out of anxiety that he would get rejected or his post would go by unnoticed and maybe he wasn't cut out for it. On the fourth day, Jack finally forced himself to check back in and saw that neither of those things happened—he had not only received verification, but he had also received several up votes and comments, and Jack had been in the subreddit long enough to know what was considered a huge number of upvotes—and he had a _lot_. Jack was absolutely gob-smacked. The comments section was absolutely positive. There were a lot of encouraging messages and "looking forward to your posts" comments, and a lot of interesting remarks about how deep his voice was and how beautifully he spoke, and the occasional "daddy" comments that Jack would never admit to getting an absolute kick out of, hiding a grin into his palm despite being in the privacy of his own room. Jack knew his voice was deep and a number of his bed partners had appraised how “good” he was at dirty-talking despite never really putting in any effort Jack considered to be more than the bare minimum, but he never knew until now the extent of the power a voice like his had. The weekend after that, he’d done extensive research on the kind of recording equipment he should buy and programs he'd need to edit, and was soon after set up to get some real work done. Jack started with fulfilling script offers and, to his surprise, shot up to popularity fairly quickly after, racking up hundreds of subscribers within half a day and climbing to the top spots at an almost alarmingly quick rate. It was all smooth sailing from there and in no time, Jack had amassed a large amount of subscribers and numerous admirers. It was all good for Jack's ego and his over-active sexual imagination that he, more often than not, had no outlet for. He tried his hand on a related subreddit too—called r/pillowtalkaudio (PTA for short), which was where less raunchy audios went—with subject matters such as love confessions, boyfriend/girlfriend experiences, comfort, aftercare, among other things—and where Jack poured his heart out and projected his imaginary romantic fantasies onto when he was feeling a little more sentimental.

Back to Friday night, Jack drunk and lonely—trying to consider if he should make another recording just to pass the time and the sadness, but decided against it after realizing he was fresh out of ideas, too tired to touch himself and too drunk to read a script with any semblance of elegance or coherence.

Which brought him to the other thing he spent some of his free time on: twitter. Jack was a very casual user, his follower count was pretty sparse and he only mostly used it to tweet vague stuff about his life or follow hot gay guys (yes, it was a source of internal embarrassment and yes, he kept people he knew in real life out of that account). There was one user in particular that Jack was enamored with. Said user went by _yourarchangel_ , his followers having taken to dubbing him " _Angel_ ". Angel was a popular user, one of those "thirst trap" (a term his friend Lena taught him) guys on twitter who mostly posted half-naked videos and photos of himself online. Angel's body was something that looked to Jack like it had been pulled right out of his wet dreams—Jack prided himself in having maintained a better-than-average physique—but where Jack was sleek and lithe, Angel was complete solid: muscles thick, curvy and bulging underneath bronze skin and thickets of coarse, dark hair all over that made Jack's mouth water. While he didn't show his face (or his junk), he has at least posted a very carefully cropped photo of his mustache and beard—perfectly trimmed and sculpted and meeting another one of Jack's kinks. He also had several piercings—including silver barbells on not one, but _both_ of his nipples. But most of all, Jack fixated on Angel's thighs and ass: thick and hairy slabs of muscle that Jack just wanted to squeeze and bite and if Jack had ever fantasized about a stranger sitting on his face, well, then that was his business. Angel was also known to post funny, sensible tweets and photos of his labrador retriever Blossom (Jack had a bit of a weakness for dog dads), and it was safe to say Jack had a little bit of a crush on the man.

Jack didn't bother to change out of his clothes, he was too tired and decided instead to simply flop onto his bed. He pulled out his phone, opened his twitter account and immediately checked on Angel's profile to see if he'd missed out on any new tweets. It turns out he had indeed missed on a few, but he doesn't hit like in fear of seeming like a creep. Jack then noticed the "DM ME FOR COMMISSIONS" phrase on Angel's bio. Oh, that's right. Angel did paid nude photos and videos too. It was then that Jack's inebriated monkey brain came up with the idea—he kept on thinking about Angel's thighs and how delicious and powerful that must be. The primitive, idiot part of Jack's brain had him immediately go to Angel's DMs and type out _"mr angel am dming for commissions, can u crush a watermelon between ur thighs"_. Jack, in his drunk stupor, fell asleep almost as soon as he'd hit send and before common sense and shame could tell him that that message was a terrible fucking idea.

~

Years of forced habit had taught Gabriel's body to wake up with the sun. His dog, Blossom, slept at the foot of his bed and woke when he stirred. Gabriel turned off the air conditioning, drew his curtains, opened the windows. Then he proceeded to the bathroom to do his business, then put his clothes on to make breakfast in his kitchen, Blossom close on his heels. Gabriel makes himself a simple Spanish omelet and sweetened black coffee while Blossom ate his food on the floor, the sound of his chomping and pellets skittering around in his stainless-steel bowl the only sound to be heard in the little kitchen. When he finished eating and the coffee was cool enough to sip, Gabriel fished his phone out of his pocket and began checking his notifications on social media—his alter ego as _yourarchangel_ , otherwise known as just _"Angel"_ —as was his customary morning routine. Gabriel checked his instagram first, then his twitter—he liked a few tweets and a few mentions. Nothing but the usual fare of horny internet people, he decided. Then he checked his direct messages from bottom to top, not even batting an eyelash at the saucier porno commission requests he got that may or may not have involved him putting strange items into his backside—but nothing Gabriel hadn't already encountered in the jungle that was the internet. He deleted or ignored some of the seedier messages that didn't seem serious or were out of bounds where Gabriel drew the line of his comfort. He copied and pasted his rates in response to some of the messages—just the one message catching his eye that morning.

"mr angel am dming for commissions, can u crush a watermelon between ur thighs"—the message read, which he quickly answered with a brief "would you like to see? ;)" followed by a copy-pasted message of his rates.

Now that amused him, it wasn't by any means the weirdest thing anyone's ever asked of him, but Gabriel—modesty aside—truly prided himself in his thighs. He put in a lot of work to get quads that good after all, and he'd always wanted to try that watermelon challenge and it was a bit of a surprise that he hadn't been asked earlier on—and now he had a convenient, _well-paying_ excuse to actually desecrate a fruit with his muscles. That was the last of online obligations Gabriel had to attend to and he put he locked his phone, set it face-down on the table and crouched down to pet and scratch Blossom while he continued to enjoy the rest of his coffee.

An epiphany hit Gabriel nearly 2 minutes later—almost causing him to spit out coffee as he scrambled to get his phone and check on watermelon crusher guy again—caffeine running full effect in his bloodstream, Gabriel was finally paying attention and notices the handle on the sender of the message: _strokecommander._

Oh, shit. _Oh shit._

Was it the same _strokecommander_ from the GWA and PTA subreddits?

_Holy shit._

Gabriel rushed to check the guy’s profile. All it had was a little icon of some video game character that Gabriel was only vaguely aware about, an empty biography and no external website links, followed by a myriad of likes and retweets of content that was either adult in nature, funny and/or relatable, or dog photos and videos. The likes were virtually the same too and were of no help. Gabriel was disappointed—the handle was likely just a coincidence and this was just a lurker account by a different person.

Gabriel was a huge fan of _strokecommander_ ’s works on the GWA and PTA subreddits. Gabriel was convinced he hadn’t truly understood the meaning of the saying _“voice like honey”_ until he’d listened to those audios. Man had an unfairly deep and alluring voice and a truly excellent way of speaking that quickly, effortlessly moved back and forth between sweet, seductive, alluring, caring, and cute—whichever thing he was doing for one post. _Strokecommander_ had versatility where his content was concerned. His original scripts were really good, too and showcased that whoever this was also was a talented writer on top of being a great audio creator because his posts were of near-professional quality, with clean sounds and binaural editing worked into the audios. His works were also primarily M4M or M4A—and while he knew it was just the endorphins talking, he may have developed a huge crush on the man (or his voice), seeing as, despite his relatively healthy sex life that mostly revolved around one-night-stands and acquaintances-with-benefits, Gabriel constantly found himself listening and relistening to Commander’s (which was what the people of the subreddit had taken to calling him) audios. They were also admittedly his favorite thing to get off to, and he did his best to set aside time just before bed to really savor Commander’s newest posts—coming as the audio tells him to, sometimes following it up with an aftercare audio he posted at the other subreddit, then falling into a deep, comfortable sleep that really sometimes felt more gratifying than actually getting laid.

The odds that this twitter account was by the same person were slim—but Gabriel had to try anyway. The person on the other end of the message had not responded yet, and Gabriel quickly followed up with a few more lines.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ wait
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ by any chance are you also strokecommander from gwa and pta on reddit???

Five minutes. Ten minutes. No response—it hadn’t been that long but Gabriel’s hopes quickly died in his chest. He eventually decided there were better things to do with his time, and so he shoved his phone into the pocket of his shorts and proceeded to go about his usual day.

~

It was well into the afternoon by the time Jack woke up. He woke up tightly rolled and bundled into his comforter, the room was comfortably cool because Jack had at least had the sense to turn on the air conditioner before going to sleep, but his head hurt and his mouth tasted foul and dry from dehydration. He rolls over to his bedside table, finding there a bottle of water. Jack unscrewed the cap and drank, draining the bottle in one swig. He rested his head back on the pillow, trying to think about the things he needed to attend to on that day and then to yesterday night. Jack vaguely recalled the usual Friday night drinking routine, then coming home and then—

He almost gave himself whiplash from how quickly he’d rolled himself on all fours, groping around his sheets and the pillows in search of his phone that was nowhere on top of the bedside drawer. Eventually, he found it wedged between the mattress and the headboard. Jack quickly checked on his twitter account—the notification bubble registered _one message._

Oh no. _Oh no. It wasn’t a dream._

Jack took a deep breath first, bracing himself for the almost-certain lambasting he’ll get for that message he sent Angel on twitter. _Who the fuck requests things like that._ Guy’s definitely going to think he was a total creep now. Jack didn’t know him personally but he knew it would still sting. He took another deep breath just as he clicked on the notification.

Angel was, surprisingly, very amicable in his responses despite the strange and lazily typed out request—

> _> @yourarchangel: _would you like to see? ;)

—the response read, followed by a longer, likely copy-pasted message that consisted of his pricing for commissions. And then, to Jack’s surprise, followed by messages that, according to the time stamp, were sent at least 10 minutes after the rates.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ wait
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ by any chance are you also strokecommander from gwa and pta on reddit???

Jack’s mouth fell open at the replies.

_Holy fucking shit Angel knew about his audios._

~

Jack considered the night he had before and concluded that he’d sent enough impulse messages to send another one, just having woken up and still hungover no less, and so decided to get himself in order first before responding to Angel’s message, which made Jack a mixture of mortified, nervous and giddy all at the same time.

Jack went to his kitchen to drink some more water, took a shower, made up his room and then ate a heavy meal after having just missed two. He was back lounging in his bed—with fresh beddings and sheets now, and he in fresh, comfortable clothes—with a cup of milky coffee in hand when he decided it was time to attend to the message (why was he making such a big deal out of this?). Jack opened the app and type out a response with one thumb.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ wait
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ by any chance are you also strokecommander from gwa and pta on reddit???
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: I am, actually.

Hmmm, wait, that sounded a little too… Stiff? Aloof? He didn’t want to sound snobbish and uninterested in conversation so he added—

> _> >@strokecommander_: :)

Jack placed his phone on his lap, drank his coffee and waited.

~

Receiving a response had actually come as a surprise to Gabriel—his phone had been vibrating throughout the entire day, only for the notifications to be from everyone else _but_ Commander and eventually Gabriel had stifled his hopes after hours and hours of silence and checking a notification only to be disappointed. And then when he’d already given up on a reply—it came to him, finally, almost in the evening and nearly a whole day after the initial message had been sent. Gabriel had to sit himself down at the response.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ wait
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ by any chance are you also strokecommander from gwa and pta on reddit???
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: I am, actually.
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: :)

_Holy shit. Holy fucking shit it really was him._ Gabriel had prepared himself for the possibility that this guy wouldn’t be the same _strokecommander_ —but apparently, he hadn’t prepared himself for the possibility that he _was_. Gabriel put a hand up to his mouth, kneading his jaw thoughtfully as he tried to come up with what to say next. What do you even say to a guy like this? Obviously, he couldn’t just say _hey I think I’m sorta-kinda in love with your voice actually, you will **not** believe the amount of times I’ve bust a nut just listening to you—_ and _not_ sound like an absolute lunatic. That was _exactly_ what he felt but he couldn’t just say that. Definitely not. _Keep it cool, Gabe._ He’d left short, respectable comments on Commander’s posts before, which he’d responded to with curt thank you’s and some other kind answers. He could do this. Gabriel began typing out his response.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ oh shit
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ fancy seeing you here, small world huh?
> 
> _> @yourarchangel: _I’m a huge fan of your work! <3

Okay, that was normal and respectful enough, wasn’t it?

Gabriel’s chest tightened at the sight of the three dots floating on the bottom left of his screen, indicating that _strokecommander_ had read his recent messages and was now typing out a response.

> _> >@strokecommander_: oh wow, thank you so much, that’s really good to know!

A pause. Gabriel doesn’t get any more answers, but the three dots still appear on the screen and he waits for the other person to continue.

> _> >@strokecommander_: so uhh
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: about that request
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: I’m really sorry, I was pretty wasted last night when I sent that, it was really stupid and I don’t want to be disrespectful and I hope you don’t think I’m treating you like a joke or anything like that.

_He’s back-pedaling,_ Gabriel thought to himself. That actually made him laugh a little. It was kind of cute. He absent-mindedly rubbed the pad of this thumb over his bottom lip in thought. He could just respond with an “okay, have a nice day!” and be done with it—but Gabriel wasn’t sure he was quite ready to let this conversation die just yet, despite the drunken confession—he decided he wanted to take the risk.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ ah
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ I see
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ so you really don’t want to see me crush a watermelon with my thighs…?

The reply came in much quicker.

> _> >@strokecommander_: I didn’t say that

Gabriel’s face broke out into a full grin this time.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ oh? :)
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: I mean
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: I’d still be very willing to pay if it’s something you’re comfortable doing
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: and so long as it’s not actually dangerous, I’m not sure if it is

Gabriel was laughing now.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ I don’t think it is???
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ waste of good fruit (fuck, I LOVE watermelon) but I’m willing to do it
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ always wanted to try it actually HAHA
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ now I have a legitimate excuse to do it

_~_

Jack honestly couldn’t believe what he was reading. He was already so floored by the initial shock that a person like _yourarchangel_ was listening to—and a _fan, too_ —of his audios, and he continued to be shocked at how well the conversation was going. Angel wasn’t creeped out, and maybe it was just his hopeful mind but he actually seemed like he wanted to talk to him and genuinely sounded like he got a kick out of the watermelon request. Jack began to type.

> _> >@strokecommander_: well then. I’d be more than happy to pay you to enact your life-long dream of testing your limits by destroying a fruit by sheer power of your leg meats- everybody wins
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: you just gotta help me out here because I honest to god have no fucking idea where “obliteration of fruit” falls under in your rates here

~

Gabriel stopped midway through a laugh as an idea occurred to him.

He tapped his foot on the floor again, considering what he was about to do next. It was a bit of a bold move but—the heart wants what it wants, no? Gabriel had nothing to lose and he could always just sweet-talk his way out of a little awkwardness.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ hah
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ come to think of it I actually haven’t considered that yet but
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ I’ve got an idea.
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ oh? :)
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ let’s hear it then

Gabriel typed just a little more slowly, choosing his words carefully and pausing before hitting send to check and re-check what he’d just written.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ if it’s something you’re comfortable doing, I’m totally willing to trade a video for one of your audios. AND if you say yes, I give you my word I’m not going to ask for anything… outrageous

Gabriel also made sure to follow it up so Commander could say no if it wasn’t his thing.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ if it’s not something you’re down for that’s aight too. then again you could also just NOT pay me. consider it my thanks for all the audios you made

The reply was almost instantaneous.

> _> >@strokecommander:_ ANGEL

_Angel._ He used his screen name. Something about that made Gabriel’s heart jump just a little and he found himself holding his breath while he waited for the rest.

> _> >@strokecommander_: how dare you attempt to just give away an experience for FREE
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ how dare I? how dare YOU

~

Jack bit down on his lip—a nervous tick, because Jack was, for some reason, nervous—but also just as giddy, bouncing his leg up and down in barely-contained excitement at the conversation unfolding before him. He had expected many things—almost all scenarios either negative or awkward, which really said more about him than anything else—but he hadn’t expected it to go anything even closely resembling _well._ He was conversing comfortably and Jack knew it usually took some time for him to ease up into a conversation and talk like his usual self, but he’d slid easily into this one in no time at all.

 _Your crush is showing, Morrison,_ he berated himself internally.

God, he was too old to be behaving like this.

He was also well-aware of the dangers of having a tiny infatuation with some guy on the internet he knew next to nothing about—but he supposed he was old enough to keep himself safe. Besides, Jack thought, he needed a little bit of excitement in his life.

> _> >@strokecommander_: Shhh
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ I definitely will pay you to thigh-crush a watermelon okay
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ in audio form too if that’s what you really want
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ although in my opinion I don’t see how that’s a fair trade on your part………
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ please let me pay you…………

~

 _Shit he was cute._ Gabriel’s heart was pounding in his chest now. It was nice that he was insistent on compensation and wanted to pay for it too—but Gabriel _really_ wanted that audio. His insides quivered at the thought of Commander’s thick, honey-smooth voice whispering in his hear, in an audio made _just for him—_ but he didn’t want to sound too desperate. He hadn’t even stopped to consider what kind of audio he would request. Maybe something a little more suited for PTA—for some reason this guy’s opinion of him felt like it mattered, and he didn’t want to be so forward so early on and ask for something sexual and inappropriate (even though that was kind of their whole deal) and come off as a creep. He shot a quick reply to Commander.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ DEAL
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ but please don’t pay me money anymore I know it isn’t easy to make audios
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ and it’s not easy to get thighs capable of crushing watermelons
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ you flatter me, Commander
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ :)
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ so what did you have in mind?
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ I’ll do pretty much anything
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ well
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ to be honest I didn’t really think I’d get this far???
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ I don’t really know what I want yet but I’m not too picky
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ you could read a grocery list or the back of a shampoo label and I’d still think that would be nice coming from you
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ you have a very nice voice, sir
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ NOW who’s the flatterer?
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ but seriously thank you
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ I’m not gonna judge you if you have a grocery list/shampoo label reading kink
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ I DON’T
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ but hearing you might just change that
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ :)
> 
> _> >@stroke commander: _sure you don’t
> 
> > _> @strokecommander:_ tell you what
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ you come up with something
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ and I’ll throw in the grocery list/shampoo label reading as a bonus
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ very generous of you
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ for that I’m willing to throw in an extra watermelon
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ YOU’VE GOT YOURSELF A DEAL

Gabriel tried to come up with something he wanted to request—he considered his options while he continued to message Commander—to his delight, the conversation didn’t stop there. Their topics ranged from Gabriel asking how he recorded his stuff and how (if he didn’t mind him asking) he got into GWA and PTA, and then Commander asking him about how life was as an online celebrity, to which Gabriel responded with funny stories about the stranger commission requests he received, which Commander then answered back with stories of his own from the reddit community. Gabriel had eventually decided on asking Commander to read out a (romantic) poem for him. Commander noted his surprise at how wholesome the request—but also reassuring Gabriel after looking at the poem himself that it was _cute._ He couldn’t wait to hear how the other man was going to record that.

Confined in their own little bubble of conversation, it had completely flown over Gabriel’s head that they’d been conversing for _hours_ and it was already late into the night. He vaguely wondered what time it was for Commander, but he withheld himself from asking because asking about time zones and locations seemed (funnily enough, considering all the other things they’d talked about) to him a tad bit personal. He pointed out the time—Commander responding “oh shit, you’re right”—which told Gabriel that he was either in the same time zone or close. Commander was the first to bid him good night, saying he totally forgot he had other things to attend to.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ good night Commander :)
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ I’ll get your watermelons soon

Gabriel paused. He honestly didn’t feel like ending the conversation yet—he can’t even remember the last time he’d had this much fun talking to anyone, but again, he didn’t want to seem too forward or to overstep boundaries, seeing as they’d only just met. He quickly tapped in another reply.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ hey
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ it was really nice talking to you

He twiddled his thumbs over the screen for a little while, slightly nervous and worried that maybe the “chemistry” was one-sided and the other person wasn’t having as good a time as he was. The three dots on the bottom left of his screen hovered intermittently for a few seconds.

~

Jack wasn’t quite ready to call it a night yet—but he’d been honest when he said there were work things he’d accidentally neglected, too caught up in his messages with Angel. Part of Jack was scared that Angel didn’t feel as engaged as he did, that this was a one-time thing and they’d trade the promised videos and audios and then never speak to each other again. It was a little—okay, _a lot_ —cheesy but the last few hours had been _magical_ and Jack really couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so enamored talking to anyone. Sure, it could just be the novelty, and he’d hold on to those moments for as long as he could. The three dots told him Angel was still typing.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ hey
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ it was really nice talking to you

Jack’s heart soared at those words. He could just be saying it to be polite, but Jack couldn’t help how he felt.

> _> >@strokecommander:_ it was really nice talking to you too

Jack aggressively picked at his brain. Come on, _come on,_ say something—

> _> >@strokecommander:_ we should talk again soon :)
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ good night Angel
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ night!

Jack locked his phone and set it on top of his bedside drawer. If he didn’t leave it at that now, he would never get anything else done. He made himself another cup of coffee to work off the excess energy and excitement he felt.

~

Gabriel felt ridiculously happy at the notion that Commander wanted to talk to him again. They’d said their good nights but he was still riding on the high of having enjoyed himself talking to someone and he couldn’t possibly go to bed yet. Instead, he put on some workout clothes, brought his phone and wireless earphones with him and went out for a run.

When Gabriel had finally somewhat exhausted himself, he took a shower, dressed himself comfortable then refilled Blossom’s water bowl, confining him to the living room because Gabriel, after all, still had some excess energy that he had to be _alone_ for in order to exhaust. He bundled himself up in his comforter and visited _strokecommander’s_ reddit profile and picked out one of the shorter JOI audios. To him it felt a mixture of surreal and thrilling just a little bit _embarrassing_ —like he was teenager again, at risk of being caught doing something he shouldn’t be—touching himself to Commander’s voice knowing he’d actually _talked_ to the man. He allowed himself time to fantasize—Commander found his twitter account, actually wanted to commission him—that definitely meant he was into him, right? Gabriel really hoped he was. It was just a hopeless internet crush—he knew _nothing_ about the man, but Gabriel thought it would be harmless to indulge in this, at the very least. The JOI involved a count-down—he had to come at the count of ten, but Gabriel was so turned on he knew he couldn’t make it past five, but he gripped the base of his cock to prevent himself from coming _before_ the voice in his earphones said he could. He held off as best as he could, then he quickened and tightened his strokes when the countdown was nearly finished—and he came, right on time. The audio ended with Commander’s voice saying _“Good boy. Now go to sleep._ ”. Gabriel wiped himself down, pulled his boxers back up and fell asleep smiling into his pillow.

~

To Jack’s surprise and delight, he woke up to having already received another message from Angel. Jack prided himself as an early riser—but looks like Angel woke up even earlier than he did. Must be an early-morning workout type of deal. The messages were sent to him over an hour ago—pictures, one of Angel’s dog, Blossom, sitting with his jowls stretched wide and tongue lolling out like he was smiling, two watermelons on either side of him. The caption read “dog for scale”. And then a second photo of Angel (head cropped out, of course), holding the watermelons close to his chest like huge, hulking breasts (Jack would forever deny that he spent a significant amount of time staring at the shape of Angel’s hands—masculine, rough and veins popping… large). Jack chuckled, rolling over to his side, looking at the pictures again. He quickly typed out a response.

> _> >@strokecommander:_ ALREADY?
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ good morning
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ carpe diem, carpe watermelons
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ and please tell Blossom he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on

Jack left his phone on his bed to get himself ready for the day. He was surprised to find that he’d received another message from Angel when he came out of the shower.

> _> @yourarchangel:_ if Blossom is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on then what am I? :(

That brought a solid laugh out of Jack and some warmth rushing to his cheeks.

> _> >@strokecommander:_ second place. :)
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ Commander you wound me

Three dots. A semi-long pause—then a thumbnail for a video appeared, captioned:

> _> @yourarchangel:_ perhaps these watermelon-crushing thighs will change your mind. :)c
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ wait I haven’t made your audio yet!
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ no rush, now WATCH IT

Jack sat on the edge of his bed with just a towel wrapped around his waist when he watched the video—barely 2 minutes long, with Angel sitting on plastic, clad in loose black shorts as he actually _managed_ to crush watermelons (with some effort), one after the other, with his thighs. Jack sat laughing into the palm of his hand, admiring the way the man’s muscles bulged with the effort but chuckling at the ridiculousness of it all. But most of all Jack felt his chest squeeze towards the end of the video—when he heard Angel laughing at his own antics, the sound a deep (though maybe not as deep as his) and pleasant rumble that made Jack think he could spend all day trying to coax out of the other man. _Get it together, Morrison._

> _> >@strokecommander:_ holy shit………… Angel you actually did it
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ okay to be honest
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ I wasn’t 100% sure I was gonna be able to do it
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ BUT I DID HELL YEAH
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: congratulations, well done you absolute madman
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ thank you for indulging me that was a delightful way to start my day off
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ you’re welcome!
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ btw
> 
> _> @yourarchangel:_ ?
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ you’ve got. Amazing thighs, you really do
> 
> _> @yourarchangel_: :) thank you!

~

The rest of that day was spent just messaging Commander while Gabriel deep-cleaned his house, as was his weekend routine. Gabriel had been constantly worried that they were going to run out of things to talk about and Commander would stop responding to him or get bored of talking—but neither things happened and the conversation went on with little effort on his part other than simply being himself. He got a lot of things done that day, too, more energetic than usual.

Commander filled in his part of the deal sometime in the evening, Gabriel having received three soundgasm.net links in his inbox an hour after he’d told Commander he would disappear for a while to have his dinner and shower.

> _> >@strokecommander: _there you go
> 
> _> >@strokecommander: _poem on the first one, shampoo bottle label and then my grocery list on the second and third
> 
> _> @yourarchangel: _HELL YES

Gabriel rushed to get his best quality headphones, tossing himself onto his bed and Blossom following soon after, curling up against Gabriel. Gabriel bundled himself up in blankets, making sure he was comfortable before he tapped open the links, starting with the poem first.

Sexual context or not, Commander _really_ could make anything sound sensual with that deep, rich voice of his. He certainly had a talent for reading in general, too. It was a feast for the ears and Gabriel made a mental note to download the audio clip onto his phone so he could listen to it again later—it would be nice to fall asleep to, especially knowing this was something _he_ chose, something made for _him._ Next, he listened to the shampoo bottle label reading, then the grocery list, all the while his mouth stretched wide in a grin that made the muscles of his cheek ache. Commander had attempted to made the shampoo bottle label reading sensual but ended up breaking character halfway through, his voice cracking into wheezing, and then laughter—the kind of laugh that was infectious and had Gabriel laughing along. It was by no means the first time he’d heard Commander laugh in audio, but the other times he did were all part of the script, whereas this one… Really sounded natural. It tugged at his heartstrings somehow, like he was sharing an inside joke with an old friend even though he barely knew the other man.

Gabriel listened to the grocery list next, this time read in what Gabriel assumed was Commander’s natural speaking voice—deep and rough as ever, with less music in in than what he did with his other audios, but no less attractive. He sounded bored, but it was kind of endearing. He shot a quick message to Commander.

> _> @yourarchangel: _hey

Immediately, three dots appeared on his screen.

> _> >@strokecommander:_ hey yourself
> 
> _> >@strokecommander: _how was it?
> 
> _> @yourarchangel: _your grocery list sucks
> 
> _> @yourarchangel: _but everything else was perfect, thank you for recording them for me <3
> 
> _> >@strokecommander: _you’re welcome
> 
> _> >@strokecommander_: but I’m not gonna let you just slander my grocery list like that
> 
> _> @yourarchangel: _it’s microwavable food and bare minimum condiments and, what, porkchops and potatoes?
> 
> _> @yourarchangel: _where’s the FLAVOR, the SPICE
> 
> _> >@strokecommander: _Angel I’m white you can’t ask me about spice

That made Gabriel snort.

> _> @yourarchangel: _how white are we talking here
> 
> _> >@strokecommander: _all-American blond-hair, blue-eyed white
> 
> _> >@strokecommander: _like I’d probably call ketchup “spicy” white
> 
> _> >@strokecommander:_ which, for the record, I don’t find spicy, but I know my stereotypes

Gabriel was shaking with laughter so hard now that he woke Blossom up from his sleep.

The conversation continued to flow—which stemmed out from topics about food now that they were discussing Commander’s piss-poor grocery list, Gabriel discovering that the man could barely cook as opposed to Gabriel—raised by his mother and his grandmother and two older sisters—who was an _excellent_ cook, although Commander probably knew that since he posted a lot of his creations on social media. It ended in Gabriel attempting to give him some basic but more flavorful recipes (his own or his family’s) that Commander could try that _wasn’t_ some form of barely-seasoned grilled or fried meat and potatoes. Eventually they both had to go to bed to get ready for the week—and if Gabriel fantasized a little bit about all-American blond hair and blue eyes and a golden radio voice, well, that was his business.

~

Jack found himself becoming more active on his social media, announcing in his reddit page that he had a twitter account and people were free to follow and talk to him if they wished. He’d racked up a respectable amount of followers and found that he enjoyed the hands-on communication with people, and he felt more comfortable interacting with Angel in public, which also got him more followers since he and Angel talked often and was often mentioned in his tweets—which inadvertently also got him more subscribers on his audio work.

Jack also felt himself growing more comfortable in sharing more things about himself and his life (all the while keeping more personal details like his face close to his chest). He tried out the recipes Angel gave him—Jack was at least able to replicate them with ease and the food tasted _delicious_ —and posted well-curated, quality photos of the meals to which Angel was vocally very ecstatic over. Jack was eating better and getting approval from someone he admired—it was a win-win.

It was a bold move on Jack’s part but eventually he tried posting pictures of himself—also with his head cropped out. Mostly wholesome things like a photo of himself holding a cup of coffee and tweeting good morning (though, admittedly he never missed an opportunity to emphasize his hands, his sculpted arms and his trim waist). Once, he’d even braved posting a sweaty shirtless photo of himself: Jack had virtually no hang-ups about his physical appearance, he _knew_ he was good-looking, but Jack was overall modest about it and didn’t need validation. The photo did better than he’d expected, with responses varying from amusing to outright vulgar. Jack filtered most of them out, only really caring about getting one person’s attention.

~

Four months into their chance online friendship, there was no longer any denying the attraction that Gabriel felt for _Commander._

“ _Commander_ ”—he thought of the nickname, snorting comically in his head—he was head-over-heels for a man whose face and real name he didn’t even know. But at that point he could say that they knew more about each other and spent more time with each other than Gabriel did most of the friends he actually knew in person. Who did he know more? People whose names and faces and occupations and homes he knew of but nothing more? Or a man who he knew almost everything about _except_ his name, his face, what he did or where he lived? Gabriel would be the first to admit that it really did just start out with a puppy crush—a little infatuation that was more centered to Commander’s work (his voice) than the man himself, and Gabriel, in the back of his mind, had been patiently been waiting for the novelty to wear off like it usually did… Another reason why as of late he’d been keeping himself off the dating pool. He couldn’t even clearly name what he felt—it was certainly possible that he was just thrilled to have made a good new friend.

He’d never gotten tired of speaking to Commander. Sure, there were less voracious conversations that went well into the night, but instead they’d settled into a comfortable, casual friendship—the kind you’d expect between people who’ve known each other for quite a while. They’d discovered common interests and common philosophies between each other that they could discuss—introduced each other to new things, told each other about their days and occasionally even talking about their problems with each other, made sure to message each other every now and then even when they were out with other people or drinking or doing other activities. Gabriel was definitely curious, but he never prodded and only took the information Commander was willing to give him and providing some of his own. He considered making the first move, but felt like it might be soon, too fast. For now, this would have to do. Maybe Commander would open up the idea first.

~

Jack was already doing his best to hold off from pestering Angel too much with his messages—he felt that if he doted any more, the other person might find him overbearing… Most of all, Jack was anxious that Angel would get the idea that Jack had a thing for him—which he _did,_ but Jack was very embarrassed by that fact. For all he knew, Angel to other people with as much frequency and fervor as he did Jack—that Jack was nothing special, just another random guy on the internet that he flirted with. And what would that say about Jack? He didn’t even _know_ what Angel looked like, how old he was, what he did for a living and where he lived. Would that give Angel the idea that Jack only liked him for his physical appearance? Jack carefully considered it and thought that at that point, there was very little to be discovered about the man that would deter Jack’s crush. He was good company, he was interesting, he was funny. He could be _not_ handsome and Jack would be fine with that—he knew there was more to people than looks. The only likely problem would be if Angel was too young for him. _For god’s sake he didn’t even know for sure if he was also gay._

He had no problem with meeting and dating people online, but Angel never seemed to broach the subject of revealing their faces or telling each other their names or meeting Jack in person, so he never did, either. Part of Jack was afraid that Angel would be disappointed and he would lose interest in Jack if he knew any more—so Jack kept his fantasies about meeting Angel ( _the man of my dreams,_ his brain supplied unhelpfully—god that was corny) in the back of his mind though they burned there constantly.

~

Commander was messaging him less these days. He gave Gabriel the forewarning that he was just busy with work because he was manning a new project and things were getting chaotic for him—and while he still messaged Gabriel when he could, Gabriel was worried that Commander had finally lost interest in him. Well, he should have known better than to get his hopes up (what was he hoping for, even?) and investing so much time and effort in someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a ghost in the world-wide web. Gabriel still did his best to keep up the conversation and the interactions in public so Commander would have something to respond to, but ultimately, he decided that he needed to disengage himself a little, go outside more frequently and maybe meet new people—people he actually had a _better_ shot with. Surely there were other people he could build meaningful connections with.

Gabriel sat down and ate his breakfast and drank his coffee and decided to check his facebook—it wasn’t one of the social media apps he checked in on often, but he was looking for something to do that day and thought it might be best to reconnect with old friends. He opened the notifications tab for events he was invited to. The top-most portion featured events were happening on that day—he had several, for some reason—and scrolled until he found something he liked.

It was the soft opening for a coffee shop owned by an old friend of his, Ana Amari—who was a pastry chef by trade. Gabriel had known Ana since they were in their early 20’s and have since maintained a low maintenance but strong friendship. He opened the invite and checked the map to see if it was anywhere near him—just a 45-minute drive from his house. That was something he could work with. He opened the messenger app and quickly shot Ana a message.

> _> Gabriel Reyes:_ hey, I heard about the soft opening!

Ana was an early riser like he was, and he wasn’t surprised to see that she was online and had already read his message.

> _> >Ana Amari:_ Gabi!!! Good to know you’re still among the living
> 
> _> >Ana Amari:_ will you be going??
> 
> _> >Ana Amari:_ you should go
> 
> _> Gabriel Reyes:_ course I will you know I love the shit you bake
> 
> _> Gabriel Reyes:_ you got any of those dark chocolate walnut croissant things there
> 
> _> >Ana Amari:_ yes :)
> 
> _> Gabriel Reyes:_ and the strawberry shortcake?
> 
> _> >Ana Amari:_ yes :)
> 
> > _Gabriel Reyes:_ NOW THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT
> 
> _> Gabriel Reyes:_ I just wanted to ask if I could take Blossom with me
> 
> _> >Ana Amari:_ of course!!!
> 
> _> >Ana Amari:_ and take a plus one if you’d like, on the house ;)

That mildly struck a nerve in Gabriel. No, unfortunately he didn’t have anyone _special_ (at least not of the human variety) to take with him.

> _> Gabriel Reyes:_ pfftt it’s just me and the dog
> 
> _> Gabriel Reyes:_ I’ll see you there Ana

~

Gabriel, with Blossom in tow, arrived sometime in the evening just two or three hours prior to closing, so he could avoid peak hours—which meant he could avoid lines, and that maybe he could catch Ana when she was less preoccupied with running shop.

Ana’s shop was a modest little, single-floored rectangular building (probably just a little larger than a container van) situated by the side of the bay—the small square sign read “The Zeppelin” in simple white letters against a black background, which Gabriel knew was a nod to Ana’s love of the classic rock band. The structure was made primarily of glass windows, accented with dark colored wood and industrial style décor. The inside of it was charming with tasteful interior furnishings with the same notable industrial style—metal mesh and pipes blending with the wooden panels while a few, large black-framed vintage photos were hung along the walls—just enough to give the place a homey feel, but not enough to make the space feel cramped and haphazardly decorated. The floors were made of porcelain tiles in dark grey that perfectly matched with the wooden chairs and tables with their black metal foundations. Warm LED light bulbs illuminated the place, just iridescent enough for comfort but not bright enough to be harsh against the eyes. The bar was beautiful—decorated the same as the general area, open, with various coffee-making equipment in shining silver and glass—like espresso machines, chemex pitchers and siphon towers—so patrons can watch as their orders are made. A shelved area for pastries was sectioned just to the side of the bar, next to the register. Gabriel was pleased to see that he’d come just in time, and there was still bread he could buy.

“Behave.” Gabriel said to Blossom, the dog perking his ears up and shuffling his front paws a little as if responding _“yes, yes I’ll behave”._ Gabriel smiled.

“Good.” Gabriel first visited the bread section with Blossom’s leash hanging loosely by the wrist and the dog quietly and obediently trailing him by the heels. He took one of the plastic trays and tongs by the side to choose which ones he was buying—there were several options, both sweet and savory—and knowing Ana it was certain that all of them would be good, so he took one of each and three of his favorite dark chocolate walnut croissants and the strawberry shortcake, his tray quickly piling up high. He felt Blossom’s wagging tail beating against the side of his leg and scratched his head with his free hand.

“You’ll get some later too, don’t worry.” He reassured his companion. Gabriel proceeded to line up behind four other people in the register to pay for the goods and to buy himself a large drink with it. Gabriel was about to unlock his phone to scroll through his social media apps a bit while he waited for his turn, but he decided against, placing the phone back in his pocket to look at something else instead—said _something else_ being the man working the register. Gabriel did his best to look without being impolite or seeming too obvious, short of just placing a hand over his mouth to stop his jaw from falling open, because that would have been a very reasonable reaction—at least, that was what Gabriel thought.

 _Unfairly handsome_ were the first words that crossed Gabriel’s mind—which this man certainly was—and he most definitely looked like he’d just been pulled out of a men’s magazine on an advertisement page for some fancy high-end designer brand, with a face you only ever saw in glossy print rather than in real life. He had blond-wheat hair—perfectly styled, of course—a high forehead, and aquiline nose skewed _just a little,_ a slight imperfection that only served to make him look so much more charming, and a jaw so strong and angular he might as well have been the manly ideal of a vintage comic book superhero, complete with a five o’clock shadow that seemed to be the only indication that the man was actually alive and human and not an artificial rendition of what the perfect human being should look like—and on top of it all he had blue eyes so brilliant they would have shone from several yards away. Gabriel’s gaze didn’t stop there, either, going lower as discreetly as he could, and is if the man’s face in itself wasn’t already a sight to behold, the rest of him was almost _infuriatingly_ pleasant to look at, too. The blond guy wore a light grey shirt, the v of the neckline plunging just low enough to show a bit of his chest and the pale, coarse hairs peeking out ( _cleavage,_ Gabriel’s mind supplied inappropriately) and complimenting the flow of his thick neck and the line of his throat—though the shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination as it clung tight to his pecs and even more so to his broad shoulders, showcasing bulging, well-toned arms while a white apron was cinched tightly around his waist to further accent his shoulder-to-waist ratio.

 _Jesus,_ Gabriel breathed out internally, looking over to the side to Blossom to avoid staring at Barista Rogers any longer and risk seeming like a weird pervert. Blossom lolled his tongue and let out a very soft _“awoo”_ at Gabriel, to which Gabriel smiled at him and scratched his ears. Gabriel knew he was pretty good-looking, but that didn’t make him less prone to blundering around other attractive people. He could just chat the guy up, flirt a little, maybe ask for his number before he left if he seemed open enough—but none of that, _at least not yet,_ as Gabriel had been out of this game for some time, enough to not have full faith in himself. Luckily, he was good friends with the owner. He’ll have to ask Ana about that later. It was his turn on the line—all he had to do was act normal and keep his cool. Gabriel avoided eye contact at first, under the guise of very carefully handling the items on the tray he had and then fumbling around in his pockets in search of his wallet. And then the man flashed him what he could only describe as an _award-winning smile_ and Gabriel prayed, silently and quickly, to all of his mother’s patron saints that he didn’t embarrass himself after the fact. Gabriel returned the smile with a smaller, polite one of his own—hoping it _looked_ like a decent smile and not awkward one. Then the man spoke to Gabriel.

“Are all these to go or would you like me to heat one or two up for here? Something to drink, maybe?”

Gabriel’s blood froze. The word was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

_“Commander?”_

The barista’s face abruptly twists into several things in the span of a few seconds—almost comically, Gabriel thought, and he would have laughed if it wasn’t wildly inappropriate to do so in that moment—a look of shock, then of suspicion, then of worry, then maybe a little bit of fear, then back to shock, his mouth opening and closing slowly as if he wanted to say something but he’s not yet sure what, or as if the words just won’t come out.

 _He doesn’t know who I am—_ of course he didn’t, _genius_. He’d brought this on himself—Commander had no idea what he looked like, and his voice wasn’t really as distinct as his (Gabriel even more embarrassingly aware of how much he’d soaked up that man’s voice). His brain suggests unhelpfully—okay, he’s definitely seen his almost-nudes, right? What if he hiked his shorts up and showed him his thighs or took off his shirt— _No you idiot, that’s wildly inappropriate, Reyes, that’s a fucking **felony** —_

Gabriel’s hand flew up to his mouth, waiting for the other man to react.

~

Jack didn’t realize what was happening until he’d seen the dog.

He’d been too busy manning the register and making coffee and calling out orders to notice _this one customer_ —anyone who looked like _that_ would be difficult to miss—otherwise he would have been a fraction more prepared for the interaction when it came. Jack liked to think he was a simple man, not overly dramatic—so he knew it really was _something_ when the first words to pop up into his mind when he saw this particular man were _“he’s beautiful”—_ followed immediately by the thought that he looked exactly like Jack’s type—like someone pulled straight (or the absence of) out of his fantasies.

The man had harsh and striking features—a strong nose, a strong jaw and strong cheekbones, framed by a dark beard and goatee, hair shaved close to his skull, thick eyebrows hanging over thick-lashed, chocolate-colored eyes. Scars over the bridge of his nose and cheeks stood out as slashes over his brown skin. A single silver hoop earring glinting under the light of the shop caught Jack’s eye. The next thing Jack noticed was that the man was tall—nearly as tall as he was—and _huge,_ the cords of his neck thick and visible, while the near skin-tight black shirt complimented all of the bulging curves of his muscles.

This all happened within seconds—if not for Jack’s well-trained people-handling skills his tongue would have remained helplessly stuck to the roof of his now slightly-dry mouth, but he quickly recovered from the fluster and politely met the man’s eyes, flashing him his best customer-serving smile. Then he spoke—hoping to god that his voice didn’t end up cracking.

“Hey there. Are all these to go or would you like me to heat one or two up for here? Something to drink, maybe?” As soon as the words came out of Jack’s mouth, the man’s expression quickly twists into something resembling both bewilderment and confusion, his brows furrowing as the response falls out of his mouth.

 _“Commander?”_ The man said, disbelief prominent in his tone of voice. One hand shot towards his mouth, covering it as if the word had been spoken unbidden.

Jack’s mind immediately devolves into a frenzy. _Did he hear that right? Did this handsome stranger just call him his screen-name “Commander” just from the sound of his voice? It had to be that because he was careful about not showing his face or publicly giving out too much information that could be traced back to him—had someone tried to illicitly get his information? Who is this man? Oh god no one knew about the things he did on the internet what if his friends and co-workers knew about the things he posted, wh—_

Jack’s thoughts, which in the last few seconds had gone off at the speed of light, were only interrupted by the sound of a small bark and the sound of claws clicking as a dog stood up on its hind legs, leaning forward on Jack’s counter. The dog’s tongue lolled out, shiny brown eyes looking up at him expectantly. The dog appeared to be a Labrador retriever. It clicked in Jack’s mind then when he saw the hot pink collar and the little skull-shaped dog tag hanging from it that he’d seen in photos and the word was out of his mouth before he could think any further.

 _“Blossom?”_ Jack said, his voice breaking slightly and his tone incredulous. To his surprise, the man—the dog’s owner—begins to laugh.

“Of course you’d recognize the dog first before me.” To Jack, he few seconds it took him to muster the courage to peel his eyes away from the dog to the man felt like an awfully long time—and the sight awaiting him felt just bordering on _dreamy._ It occurs to him then—this man was Angel, the very same one he’d spent months talking to and crushing on and Jack was tightly clenching and unclenching—bordering on painful—his fist to make sure he wasn’t just dreaming that he was actually _getting to meet his online friend._ Jack had no solid idea what he was expecting if this ever happened, but this definitely exceeded those expectations. Angel was handsome beyond his own imagination, and Jack was wont to admit that this scenario was nothing short of a plotline taken right out of a romcom film. Angel was still laughing—and Jack absorbed that moment as best as he could, the sight of his bright brown eyes crinkling at the corners and his mouth pulled taut to form a wide grin. When Jack finally realized he hasn’t really said or done anything to acknowledge Angel, he pulled himself together—craning his neck to check if there were other people waiting in line, fortunately there wasn’t anyone else and the café was sparsely populated at this time—then he circled back around to the exit of the bar, walked to Angel then caught him in a casual hug. Jack was only mildly aware that it might have been inappropriate for someone whose name you didn’t even know and someone you were only meeting for the first time, but a gut feeling told him it was the right thing to do. Fortunately, Angel didn’t seem to mind—in fact he’d hugged him back tighter, his body shaking slightly from laughter, and Jack started laughing too. It lasted a few seconds before they both pulled away, but even then, they held each other by the shoulders, identical expressions of awe and disbelief in their faces, neither of them seemingly unable to believe that _this was really happening._

“Holy shit.” Jack finally gasped out, still grinning widely.

“Yeah, holy shit is right.” He laughed, shaking his head and idly thumbing his bottom lip. Jack started rubbing the back of his neck.

“So, umm. Just so we’re clear here and so that I don’t end up embarrassing myself, you’re uhh. _Yourarchangel,_ right?” The man laughed even harder, throwing his head back.

“Yeah, yeah. I am. I just didn’t think I’d _ever_ hear my URL said to me out loud, and how embarrassing it sounds _said out loud._ But yeah, I am. And you’re—” Jack laughed this time, interrupting he could say what Jack knew he wanted to say.

“Just say _commander,_ alright? Don’t say the whole thing, there’s kids here.” They laughed at the same time, then Jack offered his hand.

“Actually, don’t say _commander,_ either. That’s just weird. I’m Jack.”

“Nice to meet you Jack. I’m Gabriel.”

~

Gabriel still couldn’t quite believe what was happening—only minutes ago he’d been checking out the guy manning the counter and next thing he knew he knew _that guy’s_ voice—the voice of the same person he’d been flirting with for _months_ with no real end in sight—and now they were shaking hands and he knew now that his name was _Jack._

 _Jack, Jack, Jack._ Gabriel said the name again and again in his head, turning it over, strangely ecstatic over the fact that he could now put a _real_ name to that voice and that presence in his life, and somehow the name just seemed to fit perfectly. Gabriel had an idea of what _Jack_ looked like—Jack was true to the vague description he’d given of himself some months ago but he was also _nothing_ like what Gabriel had imagined he would be as he was so much better than anything Gabriel had fantasized about.

It was too good to be true, but here it was, _here they were,_ it was all real and happening right in front of him.

“Mind if I touch?” Jack said, looking at him curiously. Gabriel was instantly flustered—until he realized that Jack was asking if he could pet Blossom. _Get it together Reyes._

“Yeah, yeah sure. He’d love that.” He answered. Jack squatted down and pet the dog’s head, then scratched under his chin and behind his ears. Blossom reveled in the attention, furiously wagging his tail and licking at Jack’s hand. Jack stood up again to Blossom’s disappointment.

“So, you work here?” Gabe asked.

“Yeah, I’m the accountant actually. I co-own this place. Just like to help out front when I can.”

“Co-own? _Shit,_ you’re Ana’s business partner.”

“Yeah, Ana’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, mine too. It’s a _really_ small world, huh?” Jack smiled again—Gabriel had already decided he couldn’t get enough of that smile.

“It is, it really is.”

 _“Gabriel Reyes!”_ Another voice joined them.

Ana stood over the counter, looking up at the two taller men with her arms folded over her chest.

“Ana!” Gabriel exclaimed, quickly leaning far over the counter to catch Ana in a bone-crushing embrace which she returned with as much gusto.

“Good to see you Gabriel, and I didn’t know you were friends with Jack.” Ana said, looking back and forth between Gabriel and Jack, arms folded over her chest. The men laughed nervously.

“Small world.” The two of them said almost simultaneously. That seemed to be today’s catchphrase. Ana raised her one eyebrow, cocking her head to the side which told Gabriel that she knew something was up—her instincts were razor-sharp like that, vaguely suspicious, knowing herself well enough to know that _she_ would have known if her business partner (which Gabriel had to assume made Jack a good friend as well) was also friends with one of her closest friends. The glint in her eye also told him that she would pry the story out of him or Jack later on. Ana rested her elbows on the counter, leaning low and forward so she could say hi to Blossom and scratch him behind the ears, cooing at the dog.

“Gabriel, are these yours? Are you ever going to pay for these? I’ll give you a small discount, don’t worry.” Ana said.

“Oh shit, right.” Jack said, immediately rushing to reassume his spot behind the register. Ana stopped him with a gesture of his hands.

“No, no. It’s alright, Jack. You’ve been up front long enough and we’re not so busy out back anymore. We’ll be done in a few hours, anyways. You go catch up with Gabriel.” She said, smiling with what Gabriel could only describe as _suspiciously._ But if Ana was going to help him spend a little more time with Jack, well, Gabriel couldn’t refuse.

“Great. Could I get some coffee too—and for Jack, my treat if that counts—and some of these warmed?” Gabriel said, pointing out to Ana the pastries he wanted heated and the ones he was going to take home.

“Of course,” Ana smiled. “you two go ahead and make yourselves comfortable, I’ll bring these over when they’re ready.” Gabriel pulled out his wallet, running his fingertips over the bills, paid for his purchases and dropped the change into the tip box.

“Thanks Ana.”

“You’re welcome.”

~

Jack found a vacant table for two farther along the shop, close to a window and a little more secluded. He liked to sit by places where it was a little quieter, and it didn’t occur to him until he was pulling a chair that this felt a little… intimate— _Jack, just be normal, you’re just meeting a friend_ he berated himself. He was definitely overthinking it, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling of giddiness and trepidation that he was about to _physically_ share space and converse verbally with Ang—no, _Gabriel._ Jack laughed a little to himself. That would explain the username.

Gabriel sat down, then Blossom lay by his feet, curled in on himself for a nap—almost as if he was giving the two of them space to talk. Ana arrived in no time with food and coffee for them, then leaving with a brief “I’ll see the both of you later” and a knowing smile and twinkle in her eyes that Jack guessed was something meant for the both of them to understand as “you _will_ tell me how this came to be later”—like all good friends of Ana Amari would know.

Jack squirmed just a little in his seat, suddenly feeling anxious because while he’d held so many great conversations with Gabriel over messages, speaking to him face to face was a different thing altogether—and while Jack had no hang-ups about his social skills and his personality, some part of him was still worried he’d bore the other man. Jack did his best to steady his resolve. Gabriel spoke first, just after taking a bite of his chocolate walnut croissant, Jack watching the little flakes of puff pastry sprinkling all over his immaculate, well-trimmed beard.

“So, you wanna tell me about the business? If Ana does the baking—and I _know_ you didn’t cook before me—what do you do?” Gabriel asked earnestly. That earned Jack a laugh.

“You’re right, I _didn’t_ cook. I do the accounting, actually. All the boring numbers stuff.”

“Oh, really? Never would have guessed. That’s a bit nerdy actually.”

“I technically _am_ still one of the managers, so that’s still within the bland white guy stereotype, right?” Gabriel almost spat his coffee, the both of them laughing.

“Hey, come on, I didn’t say that. You gonna tell me you were homecoming king, the star quarterback, and played Romeo in the school play too?”

“As a matter of fact, yes to all of those things— _but,_ I was also good at math, smoked pot, listened to classic rock and got suspended for beating dudes. I even had a tongue piercing phase at some point. And before you ask, I _was_ a boyscout, and my family runs a farm.” Jack hesitated, wondering if he was being a little too forward—too _himself—_ for a first meeting. But Gabriel just laughed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that since they’d sat down. Jack supposed that was a good sign.

“Lot to know about you Jack, huh?” Gabriel said, placing his elbow on the table then resting a cheek on his hand, looking at Jack with what he could only describe as _coyly._ Jack felt his cheeks warm up.

“And a lot about you, yeah? What do _you_ do for a living?”

“I’ll give you three guesses, Jack.”

“Bouncer?”

“No.”

“Fitness coach?”

“No.”

“Model?”

Gabe laughed, slapping his knee. “You flatter me, but also no. That’s three guesses. I’m not just brawny you know—I’m a professor, actually. I teach history at a college.” Jack grinned at him.

“And _you_ have the audacity to call _me_ nerdy.”

“And I played a lot of volleyball in high school and college and I was in a band as the bassist—which was how I met Ana, by the way. And I guess knowing what you’re into would explain why the both of you would agree to name this place the way it is.” Gabriel said, his tone amused, leaning back on his seat, already on his second pastry.

“You got that right. Figured between the both of us we had a lot of old collectibles and shit too, might as well have them out on display, right? ‘Sides, only the old timers would pick up on that.”

The conversation goes from point to point from there on to multitude of topics, at the back of his mind Jack was constantly worried that they would quickly run out of things to talk to and be left with an awkward, fumbling silence that would be difficult to fill and that Gabriel would eventually make up an excuse to leave early when Jack wasn’t quite ready to end the night yet—but his fears proved to be unfounded, the conversation flowing back and forth between them with almost alarming ease, with Jack never having to think too hard on what to say or restrain himself from saying what was on his mind, the laughter and mild teasing generous between the both of them. They’d spent so long talking that Blossom had gotten bored lying by Gabriel’s feet and moved on to Jack, Jack scratching and petting the dog idly while he spoke. They had talked long after Gabriel had eaten his pastries (even having eaten some of the ones he was supposed to take home), and the cups of large coffee had been emptied. They were both blissfully unaware of the time until the lighting in the shop began to dim, Jack belatedly realizing that they were the only ones left inside and the staff were beginning to close up.

“Holy shit, is it that time already?” Gabriel said as more lights went off, pulling his phone out of his pocket—which Jack realized neither of them had bothered to check the entire time they were seated—to look at the time.

“Shit, it is, isn’t it? I was supposed to help out back there but looks like they’ve all finished.” Jack took out his own phone—it was 10:30 in the evening.

“Speaking of which—” Gabriel stood up from his seat and bent down next to Jack, snapping a quick selfie.

“Think the internet is gonna love it when they find out we’ve met—no faces, don’t worry.” Gabriel said, already fumbling with his screen to stamp emojis over their faces before posting it on his twitter.

“Yeah, but shouldn’t we have a decent one at least? I wasn’t prepared, I probably look terrible in that. Come on. Get Blossom, too.” Jack said, holding his own phone out to take a picture. At the sound of his name Blossom perked up, standing on his hind legs to see what the fuss was all about, just in time for the picture. Jack thought give photos was an appropriate number.

“Hey, those look good. Send me those later alright?”

Ana suddenly appeared next to them.

“Had fun, you two?” Gabriel and Jack laughed, simultaneously mumbling out “yeah” with just a hint of embarrassment.

“And how was the food, Gabriel?”

“Perfect as always, I’m definitely coming back here.”

“You better. Tell your friends about us, okay? And Jack, we’re finished out back, we can talk shop tomorrow—I’m quite tired. Maybe Gabriel can drive you home instead, he’s not too far from you.” Jack was about to protest but Gabriel had been quicker.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll drive Jack home. Just show me where, yeah?”

~

Apparently, Jack lived a mere thirty-minute drive away from Gabriel—an amusing coincidence that also made Gabriel a little giddy as he, Jack and the dog walked back to the car, Gabriel still largely amazed by this turn of events and wondering (but also thankful) how he’d suddenly found himself living the plot of a budget romcom—he stopped himself from going further down that train of thought. It was too early to say, and he shouldn’t let his mind skip so far ahead when he’d only just met Jack and maybe the adrenaline rush of having a new good friend in his life was just getting to him.

“Blossom, buddy, sorry but Jack’s getting shotgun tonight.” He said, opening the door for Jack and then the backseat door for Blossom who hopped inside without a fuss.

The drive to Jack’s house was quiet—but not awkwardly so, at least from Gabriel’s point of view. It was a companionable silence despite Gabriel being almost hyperaware of Jack’s presence beside him, barely having to direct him after Jack told him the major landmarks where he lived, which Gabriel was familiar with. Gabriel told himself he was driving just a little slower than he usually would for safety reasons being it was late at night—but maybe he just wanted the feeling to last a little longer. He could just ask Jack if he wanted to hang out again sometime, but there was just something about this unbelievable first meeting that Gabriel wanted to savor moment by moment for as long as he could.

“That’s me.” Jack said all too soon for his liking, gesturing to a little house to their right. Gabriel pulled his car over, Jack didn’t go out immediately and a stilted silence hung between the both of them for a few moments—part of Gabriel wanted to outright _gush_ about the evening they had and how eager he was to see Jack again and get to know him more and how he was just if not more interesting in person—but he kept his excitement in check ( _this wasn’t a date, Reyes)_ , instead offering his hand to Jack to shake and opting to say something more appropriately condensed but sincere.

“See you again, Jack? I had a good time.” Jack took his hand and shook it firmly once.

“I had a good time too, Gabriel. And you too, Blossom.” Jack said, unbuckling his seat belt and leaning towards the back seat to scratch the dog’s chin, who responded by licking Jack’s hand.

“See you again sometime.” Jack concluded, smiling at Gabriel as he stepped out of the car door. Gabriel was the type of person to wait until his friends were inside their homes to leave—and he was the same with Jack, Jack turning around and waving at him once with a smile to acknowledge Gabriel just as he went inside his house for the night. Gabriel didn’t drive off, still, resting his forearms and his chin on the steering wheel and thinking.

~

Jack shut the door behind him as he mechanically toed off his shoes and kicked them to the side, his mind still in the clouds—Jack felt a little bit like he was _floating,_ a special kind of high after having a perfect day that Jack wasn’t quite sure of how to let go of yet. He would either sleep soundly tonight or none at all from his giddiness—already thinking if it would be inappropriate and too desperate or clingy if he started messaging Gabriel again so soon after they’d just gone out, thinking about where he could take him next or if he should officially ask him out—Jack was interrupted from his meandering thoughts by a knock on his front door just as he was about to enter his bedroom.

He opened the door to Gabriel standing on his porch with his hands behind his back.

“Forgot to tell you something.” He said.

“Yes?” Jack responded a little dumbly. Gabriel took a few steps closer towards Jack and planted a quick, sharp kiss on his cheek and stepping back just as quickly. Gabriel grinned at him.

“Good night, Jack.”

Jack’s body moved before he could think about what he did next—he closed the distance between him and Gabriel, the coldness of the floor outside stinging his bare feet, and gently but firmly grabbed him by the shoulders, pressing his lips on Gabriel’s with a chaste kiss. For a split-second Gabriel was frozen and unresponsive and Jack was worried he’d overstepped, until he felt big hands on his waist and Gabriel’s lips soften and his face pressed forward. The kiss remained chaste, but not entirely close-mouthed as Jack could feel the both of them smiling against each other’s lips. Slowly, they relaxed and pulled apart, a similar, somewhat-dazed look on both of their faces. Jack breathed out a laugh.

“Good night, Gabriel.” Gabriel laughed, shaking his head and looking down at his feet, the color rising in his face all the way up to his hairline. He looked up at Jack, still smiling.

“I’ll see you around, Jack.” He said, touching Jack’s forearm just before he turned on his heels and half-walked, half-jogged back to his car with an obvious spring in his step.

Jack went back inside his house with a smile that stayed plastered on his face as he changed and got ready for bed, even as he shot Gabriel a quick good night message—and if Jack was still smiling even as he fell asleep and then again as soon as he woke up, well, that was his business.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, I would recommend hitting subscribe or following me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ventiskull) for updates, as this was originally going to just be this wholesome one-shot but halfway through I had ideas for a possible sequel.  
> Special thanks to Kai for going over the ideas and the writing with me, and also to Jemma because "Ives I'm white you can't ask me about spice" is an actual thing they've said to me and has stuck with me ever since.  
> Kudos are great but I'd love to hear some comments!


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